In our first reading, Job sounds pretty unhappy –
and with good reason.
He is a righteous man
who has lost his wealth and his family
because, unknown to him,
God has allowed Satan to test him.
He has no explanation for his misery
but he will not accept the conventional wisdom
offered by
his friends
that prosperity in this life is a reward for goodness
and that suffering is a punishment for evil,
since he is suffering and yet knows he has done no evil.
The only conclusion he can draw
is that human life on this
earth
is simply a life of drudgery,
that he is like a slave who can expect
no justice from his
master,
that his life is like the wind
and that his days will end
without hope or happiness.
In other words, having rejected the idea
that the misfortunes
that we suffer
are a just punishment for our wrongdoings,
he seems to have come to the conclusion
that there is no
reason why some prosper and others suffer.
And yet Job refuses to break off his dialogue with God,
hoping against hope that God will provide an explanation.
The book of Job manages in the end
to give Job something
like a happy ending,
with his property restored,
without falling back into the idea
that prosperity in this
life is a reward for goodness
and that suffering is a punishment for evil.
When God finally speaks with Job
this is only to strengthen Job’s
conviction
that the reason why there is so much suffering in this life
is ultimately a mystery to us.
And we have not
gotten very far in the centuries since
in dispelling that mystery.
Even those people of great faith
who can sincerely say
in the face of their own tragedy and suffering
that everything happens for a reason,
that everything is a part of God’s plan,
cannot claim to know how specific tragic events fit into
that plan.
The passage of the centuries has not really increased our
ability
to find reasons for our suffering or the suffering of
others.
Knowing that worldly attainment is temporary
and wealth
tenuous
does not take away the difficulty
of losing a job or a home.
Knowing that relationships are fragile
and hearts are fickle
does not lessen the pain
of a broken marriage.
Knowing that death is the common lot
of all human beings
does not eliminate the fear and grief that grips us
when faced with the death of someone we love.
I suspect all of us here have, at some time,
found ourselves in a darkness like Job’s.
I suspect that all of us have, at some time,
found all of the proffered explanation of the world’s pain
as unsatisfactory as the arguments made by Job’s friends.
And while we might someday be able to say
that everything happens for a reason,
that everything is a part of God’s plan,
this is really more a statement of faith and hope
than it is an explanation of tragedy, pain and suffering.
And in our Gospel today,
we find Jesus smack dab in the middle
of our tragedy, pain
and suffering.
He enters into Simon’s house
and heals his mother in law:
“He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up.”
As word of this healing spreads, Mark tells us,
“they brought to him all
who were ill or possessed by
demons”
and “the whole town was gathered at the door.”
The whole town. . .
the pain and suffering of an entire community
brought to
Jesus,
so that he could heal them of their illnesses,
so that he could free them of their demons.
He doesn’t offer them any explanation for their pain,
but plunges into the midst of that pain
to heal what is wounded and to drive out what is evil.
He is there with them not to explain
but to grasp their
hands and help them up.
God’s answer to the question of human suffering
is the healing presence of Jesus.
But it remains a mysterious answer.
Tragedy, pain and suffering remain with us
as long as we are on our pilgrimage toward God’s kingdom.
The presence of Jesus with us on that journey
is no guarantee of immunity from pain and suffering.
Indeed, Jesus himself drinks deeply
from the cup of
suffering on the cross;
God incarnate shares the lot of Job and of all who suffer,
definitively refuting the idea
that prosperity in this life
is a reward for goodness
and that suffering is a punishment for evil.
Jesus speaks to God on behalf of generations of humanity
when he cries out,
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken
me?”
But he also speaks to those
same generations on behalf of God;
in his resurrection he speaks a word of comfort and a call
to faith.
The mystery of human suffering remains,
but in Jesus that mystery has been taken up into God
so that it may be healed,
so that he might draw near to us,
grasp our hands,
and help
us up,
so that we might continue with him
on the journey to God’s kingdom.
